Catherine Willows has a Secret
by waywardkitty
Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can’t keep her mouth shut.
1. Chapter 1: Catherine

Catherine Willows has a Secret

Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret

Author: WaywardKitty

Rating: Teen

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.

Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.

Status: Maybe finished, maybe WIP. Do y'all want more?

Note: This is the first FF I've had the guts/motivation to publish, so be nice. Unbetaed cuz I'm painfully introverted like Grissom.

Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, contrary to popular belief, she was capable of keeping a secret. When no harm was being done. And it was really no one's business. And telling could get someone hurt. And – well let's face it – when she approved.

Oh, yes, she approved. Ha! Who was she kidding? What they were doing was just RIGHT. In the natural order of things. Her approval was needed about as much as the sun needed her approval to rise, or the seasons needed her approval to change.

But this secret had spawned another secret and now she wasn't sure keeping her mouth shut was doing no harm. See the first secret was that Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle were seeing each other. Catherine wasn't sure exactly when it began, but she had known since last spring – not long before Brass got shot.

Lindsey was participating in one of those dreadful candy sales for school. Uncle Gil had ordered a few things. Although Catherine could have just brought the candy to work, she was already out and about delivering the rest of the candy and Gil's place was conveniently located between two other stops.

Of course, Lindsey's "participation" in the sale had been limited ferrying order forms to and from school. She had promised to help deliver the candy, but a bad hair day had resulted so much teenage angst that Lindsay backed out at the last minute. And Catherine was in no mood for a fight.

So that's how she found herself driving down Gil's street. She paused for a car that was half way out of a parking spot two doors down from Gil. And that's when she saw them. Sara on her hands and knees patting down earth around a freshly planted shrub. Gil trading a shovel for the hose. Catherine panicked a bit realizing that the car she had been waiting for was gone. Quickly, she pulled into a parking spot across from Gil's and turned her rearview mirror to watch them more discreetly.

Sara was now standing, but bent at the waist, brushing soil from her knees. Gil was experimenting with the hose's water pressure and unabashedly admiring Sara's ass. And then he did something very un-Grissom-like: He drenched Sara with the hose, rendering her white shirt practically transparent. Sara lunged him and playfully struggled with him over the hose, getting him wet in the process. Unable to gain control of the hose, Sara leaned in a kissed him. Passionately. Oh. My. God. Catherine couldn't have zoned out for more than a second, but in that time the hose had been dropped and Gil and Sara had migrated to the doorway, still locked in an embrace.

Catherine sat for a moment, thinking. Gil and Sara were together. Happy. Domestically blissful. Normal. Well, as normal as the two of them could be. And Catherine was happy for them. Really. OK, she was a little hurt that they hadn't told her about this development, but she could understand them wanting to keep it under wraps for professional reasons, especially if their relationship was still new. God knows, they must make each other happy. Both of them seemed to have found some semblance of balance at work lately after years of flirting, fighting and fretting.

Sara may have had a calming effect on Gil, but nothing could erase the horror he experienced watching Ernie Dell kill himself. So now he was two weeks into his "sabbatical" and Sara was obviously not herself…

That was the second secret, the new development. Sara was a mess. Easily upset, not in her usual way. No, anger would have looked good on Sara about now. Anything but teary and frail. She'd thrown up twice in autopsies in the last week and today she actually fainted in the layout room. Not to mention that she wasn't working overtime, but still walked around looking tired. Which could only mean one thing. Intermittent flu? Low blood sugar. I don't think so. Her explanations didn't wash. She's obviously pregnant.

Catherine had two problems with sitting on this information. One, Sara hadn't told Catherine, her acting supervisor, and so nothing was being done to keep her away from biohazards and toxic chemicals. Two, she'd bet next month's paycheck that Gil didn't know.

Gil Grissom was emotional tone deaf, painfully introverted and frequently a giant pain in the ass, but he was also the most principled, ethical, honorable man she knew. She may not always agree with him on the priority some values have over others – their disagreement over whether privacy concerns are more important than the sanctity of marriage was a prime example – but she respected him. And she was damn sure that he wouldn't have knowingly knocked up Sara and skipped town for a month. Which could only mean one thing. Gil didn't know. Hell, for all Catherine knew, perhaps Sara herself was in deep denial.

Sighing heavily, Catherine picked up her phone and hit the speed dial button for Gil's cell phone.

"Grissom"

"Hey, Gil. It's Catherine."

"To what do I owe the honor. Don't tell me you need me for a case."

"No, no. I wouldn't dream of interrupting your sabbatical for lab business. Um, have you talked to Sara recently?" A pregnant pause filled the air.

"Yes, I just spoke to her this morning about my tarantula – she's taking care of my pets. She sounded fine." Catherine smiled at the way he skirted the question, giving her a bit of truth without revealing The Truth. "She's alright isn't she?"

"Well, y'see, that's why I'm calling. This last week, she's been… off."

"Off."

"Tired, but not due to overtime. Easily emotional. She's thrown up twice in the morgue and this morning she passed out."

"Flu?"

"That's what she's saying but…" Come on, Gil, get it, Catherine pleaded silently. Don't make me say it. "I think she's pregnant."

"Pregnant." There was that pause again. Gil proceeded in his practiced neutral tone. "Do you have any clue who the father could be?"

And there was that careful wording again. Two can play at that game. "She never even told me she was seeing anyone. I'm not even sure she's recognized it herself."

Catherine could hear Gil panicking mutely across the miles, fighting a flight response. Finally, she heard him draw in a long breathe and heave out a long sigh. "Catherine, what do you want me to do about it." Damn. Damn, Damn, Damn. She hadn't thought this question through. She had wanted him to know, but now she really didn't think she wanted to hold his hand while he figured out what to do. "I mean, you're the acting supervisor. It's your job to set limits on the work-related risks."

Catherine silently thanked him for retreating for the comfortable territory of work and giving her an out. "Well, I was hoping you might be able to offer some guidance about what those limits might be. Maybe one of your connections at another lab may have established guidelines."

To Catherine's relief, the conversation wound down to an amiable conclusion, with Gil offering to email a bunch of his colleagues and CC Catherine so that she could field any responses. Hanging up the phone, Catherine dropped her forehead to her desk. She'd deal with Sara once she heard back on the email. For now, her work was done.


	2. Chapter 2: Grissom

Catherine Willows has a Secret

Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret

Author: WaywardKitty

Rating: Teen

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.

Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.

Status: Maybe finished, maybe WIP. Do y'all want more?

Note: This is the first FF I've had the guts/motivation to publish, so be nice. Unbetaed cuz I'm painfully introverted like Grissom.

Gil Grissom sat in his hotel room with his head in his hands for a long time after Catherine hung up. His head pounded with the refrain, Why, Why, Why, Why didn't she just tell me. But when he stilled the screaming voice in his head, he knew why Sara hadn't told him. He was busy having a mid-life crisis and she didn't want to add to his burden. She was probably even afraid of how he would react.

He even knew how it happened. About six weeks ago, Sara pulled a case where infection was ruled the COD. The deceased was immuno-suppressed and the chances of her contracting it were small, but she had been prescribed prophylactic antibiotics, just to be safe. Knowing the effect of antibiotics on hormonal birth control, they had broken out the condoms, just to be safe. While was all well and good until The Slippage Incident. They had laughed about it. Really, what were the odds? Apparently pretty good.

What Gil didn't know was how to approach Sara. Other than…carefully. He hadn't handled his communications with her about his sabbatical particularly well. He had to do this one right.

OK. Think logically. In concrete terms. Email and text message were right out. Even he wasn't that emotionally retarded.

Phone. Possibly. How to begin?

"Hi, honey. Catherine tells me you're pregnant." As if.

"Honey, is there anything you want to tell me?" Too indirect.

"Sweetheart, I heard from someone at the lab that you've been under the weather." Maybe.

Then what? Would she skirt the issue to protect him? Would she admit it and break into tears? Could he reassure her via phone? He'd just gotten the hang of supporting her in person, playing the strong silent type and holding her wordlessly. He'd have no idea how to proceed from there if he couldn't see her face.

In person. Yes, ideally this should be done in person. And that was not completely out of the question.

He still needed a full month away from the lab, and, absolutely, he had had to leave Vegas to preclude getting sucked back in, but he was now capable of going back briefly as long as it didn't become common knowledge.

He'd come a long way in two weeks. He was rested and divested of his melancholy. The future seemed a lot clearer – like the lens through which he saw his life had finally snapped into focus – his future with Sara.

It was Thursday. No classes for MLK day on Monday. Perfect. Grissom sprung into action. He had to book a flight and get a student to keep his experiments running. Packing would be easy – just his laptop and a few books – he already had the essentials at home. And finally, he had to make sure that Sara would be free. He flipped open his cell phone and text messaged Catherine. "Can you pls arrange for Sara to be off Sat & Sun?" He sent the message off with a silent plea that Catherine not ask questions or be too obvious about arranging it.

He passed through the next day in a daze, his focus trained on getting to the airport on Friday afternoon. Commuter flight to JFK, ridiculously long layover at JFK, red eye from New York to LA, first Saturday flight to Vegas – he hadn't exactly gotten lucky arranging flights at the last minute on a holiday weekend.

Luckily, he had talked to Sara before Catherine called on Thursday and then missed Sara's call on Friday while he was in the air. Checking his messages at JFK, he must have listened to Sara's message a dozen times, searching for clues in the lilt of her voice. She sounded tired, and admitted as much, but didn't sound upset in the least. She just said she'd talk to him Saturday, which was good, because he didn't trust himself not to confront her over the phone at this point. He text messaged her back instead: "Talk to you Sat. Love you."

Just before boarding for LA, a text message appeared from Catherine: "Done, barring crisis."

His journey passed without incidence and he arrived in Vegas several hours after the graveyard shift ended, quickly hailing a cab to his townhouse.

The place was quiet and empty. He silently cursed Catherine for letting Sara work late and shuffled to the bedroom. He hadn't rested well on his journey and decided to settle into bed for a nap. As he drifted into slumber, a vague thought wandered through his head that the bed didn't smell much like her. Oh well. She must have just changed the sheets.

Grissom awoke several hours later, slightly disoriented. I'm home, he reminded himself. Home. To see Sara. But Sara's not here. Clean sheets.

Oh. Shit.

It was worse than he thought. He willed himself to focus. As much as he wanted to go running out the door, he really needed a shower and a quick bite to eat. The bathroom, sparkling and without her toiletries, screamed of her absence. The refrigerator held nothing but condiments and a few forgotten experiments. As the evidence mounted for the theory that she had moved back to her apartment, Grissom's pace increased. Keys… Car… Drive-thru eaten in the car... Quick call to the lab's receptionist to make sure she wasn't there.

By the time he reached the threshold of her apartment building, he was at a dead run, fumbling for the appropriate key, but once he reached her door he hesitated. Maybe it wasn't such a bright idea to barge in unexpected. He took a moment to catch his breath and then knocked softly. And then a bit louder. He counted to thirty. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and wrap his arms around her.

Think. OK. It's early afternoon. She's not at the lab. Hopefully, she's sleeping. Quietly, he let himself into the apartment. He found her asleep in her bed, and retreated to her living room to heave a sigh of relief and undress. Then he softly, gently, he eased into bed and spooned up against her. The peaceful cadence of her breath lulled him to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: Sara

Catherine Willows has a Secret

Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret

Author: WaywardKitty

Rating: Teen

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.

Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.

Status: Maybe finished, maybe WIP. Do y'all want more?

Note: This is the first FF I've had the guts/motivation to publish, so be nice. Unbetaed cuz I'm painfully introverted like Grissom.

Sara Sidle awoke to dreams of scorching in the sun. Not the dry Nevada heat but a muggy heat, like the tropics. She had always struggled to stay warm in bed – except when sleeping with Grissom – but lately, she was convinced that she could feel her body temperature kicking up a notch. This morning it was much more intense. And there was a heaviness weighing upon her back.

She abruptly sat up in bed and noticed the man she had just woken up. "Grissom! When did you get back?" She was already regretting her reflex to sit up quickly and flopped back down to relief the dizziness enveloping her head. The return trip turned out to be a bad move for her stomach and she lurched toward the bathroom with Grissom in her wake, calling her name.

He was silent as she heaved, holding back her hair with one hand while running cool water on a washcloth with the other. When the episode subsided, she waved him out of the bathroom so that she could wash up and brush her teeth. Shit. Fuck. Damn. She was going to kill whoever ratted her out. She was so not ready to deal with this and him and his misery all at the same time.

She found him dressed and puttering in her kitchen. He looked good. Damn him for looking good. Well rested and…buoyant.

"Tea?" he asked. He picked up the box of chamomile from the counter and waited for her to nod her assent.

"Why are you here," she asked, positioning herself opposite him at the breakfast bar.

"I missed you." He set her tea down in front of her and began to prepare himself a cup. "No classes Monday, so I decided to take advantage of the long weekend. Sorry if I scared you. I wanted to surprise you." He lowered his voice conspiratorially and whispered, "but you can't let anyone know I'm in town."

"OK." OK. Not what she expected. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe she just had to cover her bout of sickness and enjoy his company. She beamed at him. He grinned back. They sat for a moment and just smiled at each other like idiots. "Well, luckily," Sara drawled, "I have the next two nights off."

He grin morphed into a smirk. "It's not a matter of luck." Her face fell. His dropped into a look of seriousness. "I hear you've been unwell."

Her eye darted away from him. "Yeah, well, you haven't been so well yourself. I'm probably just feeling the tail end of a virus."

"I'm considerably better than I was." His hand snaked out to take hers. Her eyes flicked to his face and then down to where their hands joined. They sat there for a while, fingers stroking, eyes avoiding. Sara silently vowed not to tell him, not when he was just going to leave again. Finally, he broke the silence. "Catherine thinks you might be pregnant."

She tried to tug her hand away but he held fast. She could feel his eyes boring into her head. She would not look at him. She would not cry. They struggled for control of her hand and the tears strained to escape her eyes. Her palms were sweating and so were his and finally the sweat enabled her to slip her hand free.

"What would you say if I was?" She looked up at him defiantly, tears flowing freely.

The corners of his mouth twitched up wistfully.

"I would ask you what I could do to help you." He started moving around the breakfast bar. Her eyes refused to follow him.

He moved to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I would speculate on whether our baby will have your eyes or mine, your diastema or my chin.

"I would buy you books on vegetarianism and pregnancy.

"I would ask if we could use my mother's name as a middle name if it's a girl.

"I would offer to do whatever you wanted to do about work, from quitting to become your male nanny to supporting you so that you could take time off.

"I would--"

"Griss." She turned and looked at him. "I might be pregnant. I've been… afraid to take a test… I've been afraid to even buy one." He enveloped her in a hug. "But I've been doing everything right," she mumbled into his chest, "…no alcohol…cut way back on the caffeine…trying to eat regularly."

"Why don't you take a shower while I run to the drugstore," he said pulling back and rubbing her upper arms. She nodded. "You need anything else? Groceries?" She shook her head and started to wander away to the bathroom.

At the doorway she stopped and turned. "Grissom? Thank you. I'm glad you came." And he merely smiled.


	4. Chapter 4: Grissom

Catherine Willows has a Secret

Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret

Author: WaywardKitty

Rating: Teen

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.

Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.

Status: WIP

Note: This is the first FF I've had the guts/motivation to publish, so be nice. Unbetaed cuz I'm painfully introverted like Grissom.

Y'know, I really should be working, but everyone's been so encouraging! Following this Grissom chapter, I'm tentatively planning on a Sara chapter and lastly a Catherine chapter, but might few days between each. All plans are subject to change.

­

Grissom made it as far as his SUV before the panic set in. Never one to do things half way, he sat in the driver's seat and broke down into a full blown panic attack, complete with hyperventilation and heart palpitations.

Countless thoughts were ricocheting around inside his heat. A migraine was inevitable. He toiled to control his breathing and slowly, slowly, his heart rate returned to a safer level. He fumbled around the center console for migraine meds only to find that the bottle was empty – he'd have to go back to the townhouse for some. While he was there, he might as well pick up some clothes so that he could just stay with Sara. Then, he would the pick up the pregnancy test. And he might as well pick up some animal-based protein, because no way was he was going survive the weekend on rabbit food... He pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Sara: Stopping home too, be back ASAP.

After checking his pulse one more time, he pulled out of the apartment parking lot. He was too old for this kind of stress.

Way. Too. Old.

The conflicting images volleyed through his head.

He imagined his child inheriting his otosclerosis. He imagined his mother signing to the child, beaming because he finally gave her a grandchild.

He pictured a little, dark-haired girl playing with an insect. He pictured her, almost grown, crying at his funeral in a wedding dress.

He envisioned Sara, flushed and glowing and sweaty from labor with the babe in arms. He envisioned Sara leaving him to raise the child without him.

Oh, God. Did she even want to have and keep this baby? He'd just assumed and told her – not what he thought she wanted to hear exactly – but what he wanted his ideal self to say. He realized that his ideal self had brought him here and then abandoned him outside Sara's apartment. Arriving at his townhouse, he realized that while he wasn't the broken man who left Vegas, he was still pretty messed up and would be for the foreseeable future. They both were. How could they possibly…

His phone rang. Of course, it was Sara.

"Are you panicking yet?" He would have sworn he heard amusement in her voice. "It's alright if you are."

"Yes. Hello to you too," he replied curtly. The mother of his child deserved better than curt. "I'm packing a bag and feeding the pets as we speak." They talked about nothing for a while, just maintaining the connection they both needed so badly to calm their nerves. She reluctantly let him go when he hit the road.

He stopped at his usual grocery store and grabbed a few readymade entrées from the butcher and went in search of a pregnancy test. He was tempted to compare all the different brands and product variations, but the discomfort of being in the feminine products aisle got the better of him. In his haste to exit the row with the test in hand, he bumped into the heavily laden cart of a young woman with a child. As they exchanged awkward apologies, she smiled at him knowingly. It was worse than that time Sara suckered him into stopping for tampons on the way home from work.

Distractedly, he got in the express checkout aisle. The balding, professionally attired man in front of him fidgeted in boredom and turned around to complain good-naturedly about the wait. And that's when Grissom realized that he knew the man.

Of all the queues in all the stores in Vegas, Brass had to walk into his.

"Brass."

"Grissom. You… You're not back?"

"No, no. I'm not even here. Just a figment of your imagination." Grissom smiled stiffly and willed Brass to not look in his basket. Brass glanced down and smirked.

"Soooo…how's Sara?"

"She… how would I know?"

Brass rolled his eyes and shook his head. "OK, Gil. I'll let you play that game with me."

"What game?"

"How long have we known each other? And you think you can fool me. Oh, wait. Maybe you're fooling yourself. Y'know, I don't think 'figments of my imagination' is the problem. Maybe it's yours. But I'll tell you what. Just don't play games with her. You do and I'll kick your ass right off of this continent." With that Brass turned his back on Grissom.

"I'm trying to do right, Jim, really," he whispered.

"Does anyone hear that voice," Brass teased, still facing away.

"I don't want to hurt her."

"I think a figment of my imagination is talking to me," Brass confided to the cashier, as she rang up his order. The cashier merely nodded and smiled as if she thought he was insane.

"I don't know him," Grissom told the cashier as he paid for his items. She gave him the same nod and smile. Brass was loitering at the end of the conveyor belt, waiting for him.

"Seriously, pal, you think this part is tough just wait 'til they get old enough to make their own decisions."

Grissom hesitated, slightly stunned and let Brass walk away.

Great. Something else to worry about. He suddenly needed someone to tell him everything was going to be OK. Back in his SUV, he rang up Catherine.

"How do you do it?" Grissom huffed without preamble.

"Am I expected to know what you're talking about?"

"How do you have children?"

"Really, Gil, I thought you had that part figured out." Grissom sighed heavily, and a suddenly serious Catherine responded, "You just do. And the strength to do it comes when you need it. It's sort of like when you have to process a really big, messy crime scene – when you first get there, it's overwhelming and you know it's going to take days. You don't know if you have the endurance collect every last bit of evidence and it makes you tired just to look at it. But you just keep at it and focus on one thing at a time until it's done."

"But sometimes you don't find what you need to find," Grissom whispered desperately.

"It's not like your trying to figure out something no one knows. Follow your instincts. You have thousands of years of evolution on your side."

"And it… takes a toll and after a while you can't go on."

"Well, that's where this analogy breaks down. Solving crimes provides closure to tragedy, but children bring you love and joy and fun along with the difficult stuff. It's more good than bad. You'll see. You and Sara are going to be just fine. So does this mean she…"

"It's not definite yet… but yeah, most likely."

"Well, let me be the first to offer congratulations. Call me anytime."

"Really?"

"It takes a village…"

"Catherine, I… I don't think we're ready for the village to know yet."

"I know. Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks, Cath, for… everything."

"You're welcome. I'll see you in a couple weeks."


	5. Chapter 5: Sara

Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret

Author: WaywardKitty

Rating: Teen

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.

Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.

Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.

Status: WIP

Note: Sorry for the delay. Life intruded.

-----------------------------------------------

As much as Sara was glad Grissom had come, she was glad to have him out of her apartment for an hour or so. Lately, she had poured so much energy into worrying about being pregnant and whether he would react badly. She had to regroup and the shower was just the place to do it.

He had handled the news well, she thought, as she reveled in the steam, and she felt like they had cleared a huge hurdle. Of course, they were both going to have doubts and anxiety along the way, but at least they could start moving forward and making plans. There were living arrangements to make, people to tell, baby gear to buy, work issues to navigate…

While most of this stuff was just details, the work thing was going to be huge. His offer to go with whatever she wanted, even if that was him staying home, had floored her. What kind of drugs was he on? Was this his brain on sabbatical? Had he gone off to find himself only to discover a weird, hypersensitive, overly-selfless alter-ego in him? Had he just been caught up in the moment? Was Grissom even capable of letting himself get _that_ caught up in the moment.

Oh, yes, they were going to have a nice long talk about the last two weeks. She toweled off, got dressed and wandered into the kitchen for a few crackers. It was then that she noticed his text message. Better check in with him. Although she teased him about whether he was panicking, she secretly thought it was a good sign. He was acting more like himself and less like the weird, hypersensitive, overly-selfless alter-ego, which she decided to name WHOA.

Sara had catalogued several aspects of Grissom so far – WHOA was entirely new. There was GIL (Gil in love), MUNI (miserable unemotional narcissistic introvert), EBS (ecstatic boy scientist), GOPS (grumpy overworked paperwork supervisor), The Sex God…those were just the most common ones…

She needed to occupy her mind with something else. She dropped into her chair and picked up the latest forensic journal.

"Hi, hon," he said, letting himself in, some time later.

"Hey."

He put away the perishables and made his way to couch. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. It kind of comes and goes, on no particular schedule."

He opened the plastic shopping bag, pulled out the pregnancy test and put the box on the coffee table. They both stared at it for a moment.

"I guess I might as well get this over with," Sara said, scooping up the box and heading for the bathroom.

"Need any help?" He trailed after her.

"No way." She turned and glared at him.

"Can I at least watch the… y'know the test… process. Just process." It was his EBS persona—she never could resist it.

Sara narrowed her eyes at him and said, "Wait out here." She closed the door. Of course using the kit took longer than just going to the bathroom, she could hear him pacing outside the door and it made her nervous. That didn't help move things along.

"Honey?" he called.

"Give me a minute here, will you." She finished up the test and cleaned up before she let him inside. The test stick sat on the edge of the sink. They both just stood there mutely, as they watched the positive indicator line appear. Sara was the first to move, turning to wrap her arms around him. She rubbed his back and he stroked her hair.

"Why don't we go sit down?" said Grissom. When they reached the couch, he sat and she curled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wow," said Sara. "I'm so overwhelmed right now I don't know what to feel." Grissom nodded and took her hand in his.

"Sara, do you want a child?"

"In general or this child in particular?"

"Either. Both."

"If you had asked me a year or two ago if I wanted kids someday, I would have given you reasons why it would be a bad idea instead of answering the question. My family, my job… But now…" She turned in his arms to look him in the eye. "I don't know when things changed for me, Griss, but at some point I stopped just reacting and letting my past determine my future. I started to consider: When I get to the end of my life, what do I want to have accomplished? I think if I got to the end of my life without having kids, I would feel like I had missed out on something. Something, I don't know, fundamental to being human. And this child… It's yours and mine and it was conceived in love. Isn't that what it's all about?"

"Yeah. I suppose it is."

"What about you?"

"When I was younger, I guess I kind of assumed I'd have a family someday. At some point, I just accepted that it wasn't going to happen. I was OK with that. Really. But this child has me reconsidering…just like being you and going away has made me reconsider… things."

"I guess this really couldn't have happened at a worse time for you." Sara shifted to rest her head on his shoulder again. The truth was that she wasn't sure she wanted to look at him when he answered.

"Actually, maybe it's perfect timing." He pulled away from her to see her face as he told her: "Sara, I've been thinking about making some changes to my life when I come back."

"Changes." Her expression was blank. A feeling of dread washed over her.

"Sara, I just can't keep working like I have been." He ducked his head. "I'm getting older – I know you don't like me to say that, but it matters in this line of work. The hours, the physical demands of collecting evidence, the stress of dealing with the dregs of society."

"So delegate more," she said. She stroked his check and raised his face. "Delegate the fieldwork and interviews with the worst perps."

"And what? End up a paper pusher? I never wanted to be supervisor." He pulled away and went to her window. "I'm so tired dealing with management and the politics."

"What do you want to do?"

He gave a humorless chuckle. "Be a lab rat. Write books and articles. Be a scientist for Christ sake."

"So you're leaving."

He turned to face her once again, smiling faintly. "See that's the thing. I don't want to leave. I want to stay, and not be a supervisor and just do as I damn well please." Sara sucked in her lips to prevent a smirk from developing. "Don't laugh. I know it's completely unrealistic, but it's part of the process—I'm just… dreaming here. OK? And I'm dreaming of raising this child with you."

"Were you serious, before, about staying home with the kid."

"That might have been hyperbole," he said sheepishly.

"Thank God! Did you think I wanted to hear that or something? I love working with you. I love you when you're working."

He considered her question for a moment. "I think I wanted hear it. I've been trying to stretch my idea of what the future could look like." He made his way back to her and held her like his life depended on it.

After a while, Sara got up to get a drink of water.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Grissom said. "I ran into Brass at the store and he…he saw what I was buying."

"Oh, no." She plopped down on the couch next to him and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. The good news for you is that he threatened to defend your honor if I screw up." He looked exceeding amused.

She was not amused. "Great. Catherine knows. Brass knows. It won't take long for this to hit the grapevine… Damn! I thought I'd…we'd have more time…be fore we had to deal with people and answer nosy questions."

Grissom shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, Catherine promised not to say anything. And I'm pretty sure Brass won't."

Sara frowned at him. "When did Catherine…"

Grissom's sheepish look made a reappearance. "I…uh…called her when I was out. I was sort of… y'know… panicking."

Sara smiled. "Hmmm. Well, I am glad you have someone to talk with about this."

His face fell into a scowl of concern. "But you don't. I wish you did. Is there someone you'd like to tell?"

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

"There is one person I'd like to tell – if it's OK with you," he said, looking at her hopefully. "My mom."

"Your mom."

"Please?" He took her hand and gave her puppy dog eyes. "She's been bugging me to give her a grandchild for decades."

"Griss. I've never even met you mom. What's she going to think of me?" Sara scrubbed her face with one hand.

"She's going to love you more than me for having my child. Seriously. You've communicated with her, and she really likes you already."

Sara wistfully replied, "I just wish I could have met her before I get all fat and…"

"You want to meet her?" There was a sparkle in his eye that could only mean trouble.

"I'm sure I will someday."

"No, now. Do you want to meet her now?" Oh, yeah. Big trouble.

"How?" Sara looked at him, astounded that he could suggest such a thing, like she could just take off.

"Email Catherine. Tell her you can't be on call for the next two nights because you have personal business to take care of out of town. Turn off your phone and we'll drive to LA this evening. Better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"Griss…"

"I'm serious." He looked like a kid on his way to Disney.

"You are insane," she said, only half in jest.

"I suppose we could fly, but I'm not in a hurry to jump on another plane, we won't have worry about you having to use a barf bag, it would cost more, not that that's a problem, but with all the security measure these days, it's just as fast…"

"Fine!" When did he start overtalking?

"You'll go?" He gazed at her expectantly.

"Yes, I'll go." She smiled at him thinking, who is this person and what did he do with my quiet, gloomy entomologist?


End file.
